


december baby

by whatabloodrush



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUs Lots of AUs, Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Banter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Consensual Underage Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble Collection, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Harry and Hermione are truly BFFs, Hermione is bad at feelings, Hermione is stressed tf out, I have a lot of feelings, Library Sex, PTSD, Pining lots of pining, Post-War, Romance, Sirius Lives, Smut, Time Travel, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabloodrush/pseuds/whatabloodrush
Summary: “Hello, Kitten.”Sirius Black was sitting in the armchair when she walked through the Floo, wearing a red and green Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. When Hermione finally saw him, he was was sucking on a candy cane. She watched as his tongue darted out to lick the end of the candy cane.“Oh, Merlin. What are you doing?” Hermione asked, brushing some powder from her shoulders.---A series of Christmas related Sirmione drabbles!
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 33
Kudos: 224





	1. peppermint

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is the first fic i've posted on ao3! i have a lot of feelings re: sirius + hermione and christmas. this drabble is mostly fluff!

“Hello, Kitten.” 

Sirius Black was sitting in the armchair when she walked through the Floo, wearing a red and green Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. When Hermione finally saw him, he was was sucking on a candy cane. She watched as his tongue darted out to lick the end of the candy cane. 

“Oh, Merlin. What are you _doing_?” Hermione asked, brushing some powder from her shoulders. 

“Happy Christmas,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“How long have you been sitting here?” she asked, kicking off her boots and walking into the kitchen. “Do we have any butterbeer left?” 

“You’re _late_. You don’t call, you don’t write. I have feelings you know.”

“Sirius,” Hermione sighed. 

“An hour,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Oh my _God_.”

“And no, there’s no butterbeer left, darling, you’ll have to settle for Firewhisky.” She frowned and walked back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. Sirius was at the bar cart, pouring two glasses of Firewhisky. He levitated the drinks over towards her, taking a seat next to her. His arm was around her shoulders and she leaned into the embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest. She smelled tobacco, probably from the cigarettes he’d smoked earlier that day, the peppermint from his candy cane, and his cologne. “You did get home very late today, love. Is everything okay?” he murmured. 

The intimacy was easy. 

Sirius had always been quick kisses on her forehead, a gentle hand on her back, tucking curls behind her ear. He was there after the night terrors, always with a gentle hug and a cuppa. It had been easy to fall into… _whatever_ they were falling into because it was so nice. It was nice to be taken care of. 

Ron and Harry were off living their own lives now, with wives and families, and she was… wherever the hell she was.

“I’m okay,” Hermione admitted finally. “I just--really don’t like Christmas anymore.” He hummed in agreement and she felt the vibration against his chest. “It’s not the same, without my parents, and Harry and Ron have their own lives now, and I’m happy for them, _really_. And I am so grateful for Molly and Arthur and they’re so _kind_ \--but there’s so many of them it just feels like I don’t… _belong._ ”

“You’re rambling, Kitten.” A grin.

“Everybody’s so bloody _happy_ about Christmas and it’s torture for me.” Hermione took a long sip of Firewhisky, glad that she’d let the ice cubes sit in her drink for a few minutes. There was always a bite to Firewhisky, especially for her, and she scrunched her nose. 

She was usually a Glass Half Full person. She always saw the bright side, she could always see the good in anyone, and now, after the war, after everything, she was finding it hard to see the bright side. To see the good. 

“Well, let’s make a Christmas you can enjoy, yeah?” Sirius asked after a moment, and he sat back to look at her. “Walburga’s Christmases were right _terrors_. I could use a redo.” He grinned. 

“You in a Christmas sweater, obviously.” 

“Obviously.” He chuckled. “What else?” 

“Pizza. Pepperoni pizza. Extra cheese. From the Muggle place down the street. And Butterbeer.” She sat up some. “And books. Can we go to the bookstore? And--” She took a breath, turning to look at him. If she were imagining a new Christmas. A different Christmas, he was always there with a glass of Firewhisky, a mischievous look in his eye.

She didn’t know when her feelings for him had gone from platonic to… romantic? Sexual? Wanting to know what it felt like to have his lips on hers, her neck, her… 

Oh, _Merlin_. 

He’d really crept up on her. Filling up all her spaces. He ate dinner with her, he made tea for her in the mornings, sat with her while she read. He taught her all about his motorbike, he was trying to convince her to ride with him. He talked to her about the Marauders, he tried Muggle restaurants with her, she was slowly introducing him to DVDs. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. She couldn’t imagine Christmas without him. But she couldn’t keep pining after her best friend’s godfather, like a lovesick teenager.

“And you,” she said, eyes glued to a melting ice cube. 

“I’ll always be here, Kitten.” 

“No, I know that, I mean--” Fuck. 

“I’m not exactly going anywhere, love. I have responsibilities as your househusband.” 

“Househusband?” she asked, with a laugh. 

“Yeah! I make you tea, I poured the Firewhisky, I--” 

“So, really, all you do is make me drinks. You’re the bartender, then?” Hermione countered. 

“I also steamed your robes that one time.”

“You were terrible at it! Not sure how you steam a hole into someone’s clothing.” She laughed, finished with her Firewhisky, and she leaned against him, tucking her legs under her bottom. He was warm, comforting, he felt like home. His belly shook with laughter and he smoothed a hand over her hair. 

“There’s my girl,” Sirius said softly. Jesus Christ, he was going to give her a heart attack. Touching her hair like that and whispering to her like that. “So,” he began, reaching for the unfinished candy cane and popping it back into his mouth, “me, pizza, and books.” He took a bite out of his candy cane. “Can we add Star Wars to that list? I'd like to watch it again.”

Oh, _fuck_.


	2. nativity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh! thank you so much for all the kudos and kind comments! i really appreciate them <3 this chapter is more fluff but i hope y'all enjoy. please keep leaving comments!

“Kitten, what the _hell_ is this?” Sirius picked up the tiny porcelain baby Jesus and his manger, raising his eyebrows. “Why’s there a llama?” he asked, reaching for the camel.

“One: that’s a camel. Two: that’s our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He’s _supposed_ to be in the manger.” Hermione plucked the figurines out of his hands, placing them back on the mantle. “It’s a nativity scene, Sirius, _really._ ” 

Sirius looked at the nativity scene then back at Hermione. Then back to the nativity scene again.

“But… why?” The question hung in the air as he stared at the nativity scene, and Hermione laughed softly as she reached down to pick up their daughter, who’d just woken up from her nap. Hermione placed a gentle hand on Zenith’s back.

“I will admit, I think the little figurines are a lot,” she said, making a face. “It’s just a thing some Muggles do, I suppose, to show that Christmas isn’t all about Santa Claus and reindeer. And Mum and Dad are trying to make up for lost time.” 

She’d kept track of them, once they’d moved to Australia. It made her feel better that they were _safe_ , that they were happy, even if they were happy without her. A marriage and a baby later, with the assistance of a mind healer, she’d gone and found them, and they were currently rebuilding their lives, with new memories.

“I understand,” he said, pressing a kiss against his daughter’s head, gaze finally taken away from the nativity scene. “I still think the llama’s creepy.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“It’s a _camel_!”


	3. ball

“Merlin, Sirius is really fucking _fit_ ,” Ginny muttered, grabbing Hermione’s arm. 

“ _Ginny_!” 

A few months out of the Veil, and Ginny was right, Sirius Black was really fucking fit. 

It was a magical miracle, coming through the Veil. He hadn’t aged a day since the last time she saw him in the Department of Mysteries. Despite being confused and frazzled, there was nothing _physically_ wrong, although nobody was sure what the damage twelve years in Azkaban was or how the trauma of losing his best friends would affect him. 

But, Sirius Black was really fucking fit.

It was the Ministry’s annual Yuletide Ball. They’d gotten Harry to make a speech, the Golden Trio to pose for a bunch of pictures. Hermione was in a red gown, her hair had been curled in waves, cascading down one shoulder. The gown had a plunging neckline, and she’d thought about glamouring the scar on her chest, but decided against it. 

Sirius was in a black suit, accented with a plum vest. His hair, shoulder length now with a slight curl, had been styled to be out of his face. He still had the beard and the mustache. 

God, he was fucking fit. 

Hermione had glanced at him a few times, and had found him staring back at her, gaze unwavering, and her cheeks flushed.

“Ask him to dance. You’ve been ogling him all night,” Ginny suggested as they both grabbed another glass of champagne.

“I couldn’t,” Hermione said, shaking her head.

“You’re just going to sit at this table all night, make small talk, and not have any fun? Come _on_ , Hermione.” The redhead rolled her eyes.

“I’m… having fun. I swear. Besides, my feet hurt in these shoes.” 

Hermione gave her a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

***

“Don’t you look marvelous tonight, Kitten.” 

Sirius was smirking down at her, eyes twinkling.

“Thank you. You look handsome,” she said, giving him a bright smile.

“You think? Andromeda said I couldn’t wear my Black Sabbath t-shirt.” He frowned.

“I’m assuming she banned leather as well.”

“Of course. Gods, that woman’s a she-devil.” They both laughed and Hermione took a long sip of champagne, and they settled into a comfortable silence.

“Do you—d’you dance?” Hermione asked, voice louder than usual. She decided to look over his shoulder, at literally anything else. _Anyone_ else. Draco was dancing with Astoria in his arms, Remus leaned down to kiss Tonks. Ronald was stuffing his face with finger sandwiches. 

“To this? Gods, no.” He grinned. 

Oh. Well. She asked.

“Of course,” Hermione said, nodding. 

“Do you?” he asked, eyes trained on her. “Dance?”

“Oh, um—no. No. I hate dancing. I’m a terrible dancer.” Flashbacks to the fourth year, Viktor Krum stepping all over her toes. 

****

Cormac McLaggen hadn’t changed a bit. 

He looked _good,_ still played Quidditch and was doing relatively well, but he didn’t know how to shut the fuck up.

“And then I plan on coaching for some time,” he said, pulling her close. “And then owning my own team one day.” He grinned at her and Hermione sighed, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. 

Why didn’t she say no when he’d asked her to dance? What hadn’t she _left_ after Sirius said that he didn’t dance? 

“Wanna get out of here, Granger?” he murmured into her ear. 

One: Granger? 

Two: hell. No.

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, leaning away from him. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he repeated. 

“Can I cut in?” 

A tattooed hand reached out for hers, palm up and outstretched. She nodded and placed her smaller hand in his. He gripped her hand gently and she untangled herself from Cormac’s grasp, Sirius guiding her to the middle of the dance floor. He had one hand on the small of her back and he used the other to grip her hand, leading her in the Viennese Waltz.

“I thought you were a terrible dancer.” His mouth twitched as he looked down at her, guiding her to turn.

“I thought you didn’t dance.” 

“Couldn’t let you get dragged away by that prat.”

Sirius Black was an excellent dancer. She stumbled over her feet a few times, but he’d laugh and quickly set her back upright. She’d never done the Viennese Waltz before, but he guided her through the steps easily. Years of Pureblood traditions made him a good teacher.

“Is it… odd, being back?” Hermione asked. He held her close moving slowly across the dance floor. His jaw tightened. She could feel the tension in his body.

“Yes,” he said, releasing a breath. “I feel like I’m finally able to keep the promise I made to Lily and James. And I—I’m glad Moony’s happy. He deserves it.” They looked over at Remus, watching as he attempted to dance with Tonks. She laughed and twirled _him._ “And Harry, he’s—“ Sirius’s voice caught in his throat. “I feel like I’m out of place.” Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but he shook his head. “Gods, you didn’t come here to listen to some old fuck complain about his shitty life.” 

“You’re not _old_ , Sirius.” 

“So you agree, my life’s shite then, Kitten?” A self-deprecating smile played on his lips.

“I didn’t say that.” They were silent for a few moments, swaying to the music.

“You really do look beautiful tonight, Hermione.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and her breath caught in her throat. This had to be different from _don’t you look marvelous, Kitten_ , right? It had to be different, what he was saying to her. How he was touching her. It had to mean something. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” she murmured. She couldn’t. She couldn’t handle him being this close and being this fit and staring at her like she was the only person in the room, and _dancing_ with her.

“I’m sorry?” he asked with a laugh. 

“Gods. I mean—I said…” she fumbled over her words and looked over towards Ginny, who wiggled her eyebrows. “I mean—would you… do you want to… do you want to get out of here? We could go to a bar?” 

“Gods, _yes.”_

****

“Truth or dare.” Sirius gave her a slow smile, hand wrapping around his glass of Lagavulin. 

“Tru--” she hiccuped. “Truth.” 

“Boring.” He frowned. “ _Fine_. First time?” 

Hermione covered her face with a groan. She peeked at Sirius from between her fingers, only to see him grinning at her, fingers circling the rim of his glass. 

“You’re the _worst_ ,” she sighed. “Ronald. Eighth year. He cried after.” 

“Oh, _Kitten_ ,” he laughed. 

“It was very nice!” 

****

“I really need you tonight!” 

“Forever’s gonna start toniiiiight!” 

Hermione fell into a fit of giggles as “Total Eclipse of the Heart” ended, reaching down and gripping Sirius’s hands tightly as helped her down from the bar. She slid into a barstool, taking a big gulp of the water Sirius handed her. 

“Hermione?” he asked her suddenly, eyes glued to her. He was watching her closely, and drinking his own glass of water. His grey eyes held her for a long time before he opened his mouth to speak. “Come home with me?” His gaze was softer now, unsure. 

“W-what?”

“Hermione. Come home with me.” 

“Okay,” she said quickly. “I mean--yeah. _Yes_. Yeah.” 

****

They’d barely gotten through the Floo when he kissed her. Sirius led her backwards out of the fireplace as he tangled a hand in her hair, tugging lightly. He walked her backwards until the back of her calves pressed against the sofa, and with a wave of his wand, candles lit in the sitting room. He kissed her, _hard_ , lips hungry and demanding. Hermione let out a soft moan against his lips, kissing him back with just as much fervor. 

How many times had she imagined this? Dreamt of this? Joked about it with Ginny? And now it was real, it was fucking real and it was happening and she couldn’t _breathe_ , she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

He kissed her again, his tongue pressing against hers. She arched her back, anxious to be closer to him, to feel _all_ of him, and Sirius leaned forward. She could feel his erection on her thigh. She fell backwards onto the couch with a laugh, arms wrapping around him and pulling him down with her. 

“Fuck, Kitten,” he laughed, breathless, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. He sat up some after a moment, grey eyes gazing down at her. “Do you want this? Me?” 

Gods, yes. _Yes_. A million times yes. 

“Y-y-yes,” Hermione said nervously. 

Sirius grinned. 

“I don’t know, Kitten…” He smirked. “That didn’t sound like an emphatic yes.” He kissed her again, slow and curious as his tongue explored her mouth. He broke the kiss and caught her bottom lip in between her teeth, gentle. He pressed a kiss against her jaw, moving down to the side of her neck. Hermione keened beneath him, instinctively spreading her legs as his knee pressed in between them. 

“Sirius, _please_.” He licked and sucked at her neck and she writhed beneath him, desperate to be closer to him. She rubbed herself against his knee, desperate to feel the friction of the fabric of his pants leg against her center. 

“Say it,” Sirius said against her mouth, kissing her gently. “Tell me what you want.” His lips left a trail along her collarbone and he pushed the sleeve of her gown down, off of her shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the swell of her breasts. 

“I want you,” Hermione said, shutting her eyes tightly. “Please.” 

“Good girl.” His lips were on here again, and he grabbed her leg, hitching it up over his hip. He ground himself against her as they kissed, and she could feel how hard he was against her. She squirmed beneath him, trying and failing to press her thighs together to get some relief. 

It was all too much. His hands, his mouth, _him_. She didn’t think she’d ever be fucking making out with Sirius Black on his couch, grinding against him like some horny teenager.

She wanted him, and she wanted him bad.

“I need—“ she gasped when he came up for air. His fingers danced along the underside of her breast and he pressed a few kisses to the skin there before swirling his tongue around her nipple and sucking it into his mouth “Oh, _fuck.”_

Another grin.

“ _Language_ , Hermione.” His mouth was still on her breast and he laved at her nipple once more. She groaned, arching her back. He hadn’t even touched her pussy yet, but she was drenched. 

“Sirius.” She furrowed her brow as she fought to get the words out. “ _Please_.” With a grin, he turned his attention to the other breast, tongue sucking and teasing. 

They helped each other undress, and she stood before him in a black bra and lacy black knickers. He guided her to sit on the couch, slowly spreading her legs and he kneeled in between them. He pressed gentle kisses to the inside of her thigh, a murmured reverence. 

“Can I taste you here?” he asked, his hand pressed against her stomach, urging her to lie back. She nodded once, twice, and licked her lips in anticipation. He pressed a kiss against her pussy through her knickers and her breath caught in her throat. She lifted her hips to help him take off her underwear. 

His tongue was slow. _Painfully_ so. He’d meant to drag this out, Hermione was sure. Slowly bring her right to the edge, and quickly pull her back. His mouth was explorative, slowly circling her clit, sliding up and down her pussy. Hermione was a chorus of “oh, _fuck!”_ “yes!” and “ _please_.” He had her writhing beneath him, hips bucking against his face, desperate to get him closer, deeper. 

“ _Sirius!_ ” she cried out as he reached that bundle of nerves again, bringing her to orgasm, _finally_. Her legs shook as she leaned up some to look at him, his grey eyes locked on hers. 

“Happy Christmas, Kitten,” he murmured as he pressed his lips against hers. She could taste herself on his lips. 

Happy Christmas indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally. the good stuff. hope y'all enjoyed!


	4. merry christmas

“Fuck.”

Sirius cast a quick _Tempus_ charm. Hermione would be home in fifteen minutes. He didn’t have much time. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans and his leather jacket, opting not to put on a t-shirt under. He grabbed the red Santa hat he’d found and the smoking pipe. He sat back in the armchair in front of the fireplace, lighting the pipe, and relaxing in the chair. The Floo roared to life, and he sat up some.

“Happy Christmas, Kitten, I--”

Remus walked through, brushing powder from his shoulder.

“Moony, what the fuck?”

“Hello, Pads. Happy Christmas!” His best friend walked past him, towards the kitchen before stopping in place and walking backwards, standing next to the armchair. “What’re you doing?” he asked, giving Sirius the onceover, his mouth twitching the ghost of a smile. “Are you--”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Sirius grumbled.

“--waiting for Hermione?” Remus finished with a bright smile.

“If you must know, _yes_ , this is an effort to seduce my witch,” Sirius sighed. “Now can you please leave? She’ll be home any minute!” Remus chuckled.

“You got it, mate. D’you have any of those chocolate pastries leftover? I’ll grab them and head to the Apparition point.” Remus resumed his trek to the kitchen.

“Fucking wolf,” Sirius muttered as the Floo roared to life again. With a roll of his eyes, he repositioned himself. “Happy Christmas, Ki--”

“Sorry, sorry, I know I’m supposed to be gone for the night.” Harry stepped through the fireplace, hands covering his eyes. “Happy Christmas, Hermione!”

“She’s not fucking home yet!” Sirius angrily snatched off his hat, slamming it on the coffee table next to the armchair. “And what are you even doing here? We had a _deal_.”

“I forgot the wine! Just gonna grab it and apparate to Gin’s.” He jogged to the kitchen.

“Harry! Come, sit, have a pastry.”

“You were supposed to leave, you arsehole!” Sirius called out. He could hear them talking and laughing in the kitchen. The legs of a chair scratched against the floor. Harry was taking a seat. He was very obviously staying for a while. “Hermione’ll be home any minute!”

_They were still fucking talking._

He’d just wanted a nice, romantic evening with his witch. As usual, Hermione was struggling with work life balance, and he wanted to help her recalibrate. He wanted to feel her writhing against him, hear those fucking beautiful sounds when he touched her, to feel those fingers gripping his hair, wanted to see her eyes when she came.

And these idiots were going to ruin it.

The Floo roared to life again and he sighed, trying to get back into position. Trying to look relaxed and easy and like he was about to shag her brains out.

“Happy Chr--” He shook his head. “Better not.”

Draco stepped through.

“Welcome. I’m just trying to shag my witch, but Moony and Harry are in the kitchen eating pastries,” Sirius grumbled, covering his face with the hat and sliding down into the chair. He slid down so far, his neck was tucked in against his chest. Draco shrugged and made his way to the kitchen.

The Floo roared to life again.

It was probably Molly Weasley or Kingsley fucking Shacklebolt or Minerva McGonagall at this rate. Sirius shut his eyes, unable to look. He waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

“In the kitchen. They’re eating chocolate pastries.”

“I think I’d much rather stay here.” His nose twitched. He smelled parchment, grass on a spring day. _Her_ scent. He sat up quickly, opening his eyes and moved the hat from his face.

Hermione stood in front of the fireplace in a cloak-- _his_ cloak, a grin playing on her lips.

“Hello, love,” she said, taking two steps towards him, fingers moving to the ties of the cloak. She kept walking towards him, stopping when their knees touched. She untied her cloak, letting it fall in a pool at her feet. She had on nothing but a pair of lacy underwear, with his name stitched on the front. Covering her beautiful, amazing, _delicious_ cunt. “Happy Christmas, Sirius.”

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Get _out_ of here, Malfoy!” Hermione let out a high pitched squeal, covering her breasts with one arm and awkwardly crouching down to reach for her cloak.

“Please, someone-- _anyone_ , Obliviate me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas! thank you again for all the kudos and comments, they seriously made my day! please keep leaving comments, i'd love to know what you think! feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://adriannala.tumblr.com/)!


	5. party

Hermione Jean Granger hated parties. 

Well, she liked them a _little bit_. 

Parties were fun for about an hour and a half and then there were too many people, too many sounds, she needed to know where all of the exits were, needed to know where Harry, Ginny, and Ron were, she got claustrophobic, and--

Hermione Granger wasn’t _good_ at parties. 

But this was an office party. It wouldn’t be weird if she left early. It was a smaller group of people she knew. She could do this. 

She could do this. 

“And then I said, ‘We had a meeting today?!’” Loud guffaws of laughter. Someone clapped her on the shoulder.

She could _not_ fucking do this. 

Hermione took in a breath and left the room, making her way into the lobby, in front of the Floo. Harry should’ve been here by now, he always came to the Ministry events with her. 

When Sirius Black walked through the Floo and held out his arms to hug her, Hermione nearly had a heart attack. 

“Kitten!” he said loudly, gripping her in a tight hug, his nose against her hair.

No. _No._

“Sirius, what are you doing here?” Hermione whispered, her cheek pressed against his chest. “Where’s Harry?”

“He sends his apologies. Ginny was injured at her match today, and he went to sit with her at St. Mungo’s.” He had her at arm’s length now, inspecting her with a small smile. 

“Oh, no. Is she alright?”

He nodded. Hermione took a second to inspect him. He had on dark blue jeans, Doc Martens, a Sex Pistols t-shirt, and his signature leather jacket.

“Harry sent me as his replacement. I’m supposed to help you win a game of beer pong?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at her before holding his arm out for Hermione to take. 

Definitely not. He was supposed to help her leave early. Talk to a few people, but leave after an hour and a half.

He was going to ruin everything.

****

Sirius Black was the life of the fucking party. 

He told jokes, gave speeches before taking shots, made everyone laugh. He sang at the top of his lungs. He danced. He climbed on top of tables. 

Hermione stood awkwardly in the corner, drinking a butterbeer. 

She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or her own fear of missing out, but she was angry, watching Sirius. She gripped her butterbeer tightly, watching as he sang at the top of his lungs. He was singing “I Want You to Want Me.” He’d tied his jacket around his waist, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. 

The party lulled some and Hermione found herself at her desk, straightening a pile of parchment. 

“What’re you doing in here, love?” 

“Oh, just—taking a breather,” she said. A lie. But he didn’t have to know that.

“You’ve been drinking that same butterbeer all night. You wouldn’t be my partner for trivia and I haven’t even seen you take _one_ shot.” His eyes narrowed.

“Maureen was your partner. You won,” she said with a shrug. “And I… don’t like shots.” 

“She was a terrible partner. I had to do all the work.” 

“Welcome to my life.” He raised his eyebrows at her, then gave her a slow smile. Her mouth twitched and she gave him a brief smile in return. “Are you… are you having fun?” Sirius deserved to have some fun, to have some joy in his life, after so much sadness, and he looked like he needed it. A little bit of joy. 

“Are _you_ having fun, Kitten?” he asked, ignoring her question. 

Her hand froze above the pile of parchment. Her fingers spasmed, once. Twice. Unable to look at him, she focused on a point just over his shoulder.

“I’m--I’m having a nice time,” she said, voice tight. She was having a terrible time. 

The war had left all of them with scars. Mudblood on her forearm, a purple scar just under her breast. Severe anxiety, overthinking, enochlophobia. Nightmares. She wasn’t sure how to have fun anymore. 

“You’re a shit liar,” he accused her with a smile. Hermione frowned and smoothed her hands over the parchment, making sure it was lined up neatly. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t look at him. She focused on a quill she’d forgotten to put away earlier that day. An awkward silence settled between them. “Do you know how to play beer pong?”

“I’ve--” 

“--read about it?” 

“Do you want me to be your partner or not?” 

“Music to my ears, Kitten.” 

****

She was _very_ drunk. 

She’d been drunk before, on her birthday with Harry, Ron, Neville, and Ginny. She’d threatened to transfigure some asshole at the bar into a cockroach. He’d tried to grab her arse as she came out of the bathroom. She’d been drunk with Ginny a handful of times, so she knew what it felt like, but it was different with Sirius here. 

“Kitten-- _Kitten_ . I need you to focus. Get your head in the game.” Despite having more drinks than she did, Sirius Black was fine. His words slurred some, but he was still on his feet. He cupped her cheeks with both hands and leaned in close. She could smell the cigarettes, worn leather. She blinked, trying to focus. “One more, love. And we win, we fucking _win_.” 

“Yeah, we--” _Hiccup._ “We fucking win the Quidditch World Cup.” 

“Hermione, we’re playing _beer pong_.” He looked worried. 

“Peer bong, Quidditch. Same shit.” She shrugged. “Now let me go so I can catch the quaffle.” She pressed her hands against his chest--his _chest_ , and gently pushed him away from her, shakily making her way back to the table. There was one cup on the other side of the table, full of Firewhisky. There was one cup of Firewhisky on their side. All she had to do was land the small ping pong in the cup. She could do this. She took a step forward to grab the ball and nearly missed it, wobbling on her feet. 

“Careful, love.” Sirius was behind her, an arm around her waist, steadying her. 

“I need--” _Hiccup_. Fuck. “I need you to stop touching me if I’m supposed to get this touchdown,” she slurred. Hermione sidestepped away from him, swaying again before she caught herself. “Get your shit together, Granger,” she murmured to herself. She grabbed the ping pong ball.

Hermione crouched down at eye level with the table, raising her eyebrows some as she measured the distance from where she was to the red Solo cup. She took a deep breath, held it, and stood to her feet. She shuffled backwards a few feet and narrowed her eyes. Hermione took a deep breath and raised her hand, and threw the tiny ball. She tried not to put too much force behind it, to keep her toss light, like Sirius told her to. Once the ball was in the air, she immediately covered her face with her hands, peeking in between her fingers. 

“Hermione! You fucking did it!” 

Suddenly, she was in Sirius’s arms and he was spinning her around. He gave her a bright smile and she smiled back, a big smile, a _real_ smile, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so _light._ So free. She closed her eyes as he spun her, kissed her forehead, wrapped his arms around her, savoring the moment. 

The room emptied and he finally placed her back down on the ground, chest rising and falling slowly. 

“Did you have fun?” he asked her, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. 

“Yes,” she responded, breathless. She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips against her forehead. 

“Sirius?” 

“Yeah, love?” 

“Do you do office baby showers as well?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas! thank you again for all the kudos and comments, they seriously made my day! please keep leaving comments, i'd love to know what you think! feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://adriannala.tumblr.com/)!


	6. cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! i hope all of you have had a wonderful winter holiday. thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, i really do appreciate it and i'm glad y'all have enjoyed the drabbles so far! 
> 
> **cw:** _depictions of physical assault, PTSD_

_“That sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts! How did you get it?”_

_Her voice is soft as she leans over me and she’s got her hand on my throat, gripping tight. I don’t have enough air to answer, but I shake my head._

_“We didn’t—we didn’t take—“_

_“HOW?!” she screams this time, in my face, and I’m shaking beneath her, unable to respond. There’s no thinking, there’s no plan, there’s no way out. I have to find a way out. For Harry, at least, if I can’t get all of us out._

_“We found it! We found it; I swear!” I’m crying now, tears staining my face._

_“I know you got into my vault, girl,” Bellatrix says, her voice soft now. “I’ll make sure you never forget what you are. A dirty, filthy Mudblood. Not worthy to even exist.” She’s sitting on top of me now and I’m thrashing beneath her, and she presses her arm into my forearm, holding me down. She’s gripping a knife and I feel the blade biting into my skin. It feels like fire. I let out a scream._

_Mudblood._

The mattress dipped behind me and I felt strong arms wrap around me. 

“Hermione, love, it’s me.” Sirius settled behind me, pulling me back against his chest. I was shaking in his arms, curled up as tight as I could as he pressed a kiss to the back of my head. He was too close. He saw too much, and all I wanted to do was run, hide, but my legs felt like they were made out of lead.

Sirius pressed a Galleon into the palm of my hand. It felt cool against my skin.

“Feel that, yeah?” he asked. “You’re here, you’re okay.” 

Teresa, my mind healer, had said to find something to center myself. Something that brought me back whenever I had night terrors. A totem. I focused on the coolness of the coin against my skin, and slowly I began to feel my legs again. I flex my fingers and open and close my hands a few times. I wiggle my toes. My arm is still on fire—I probably scratched it in my sleep, but I didn’t want to look and see Mudblood, red and inflamed.

Flexing my fingers again, I reached under my pillow and grabbed my wand, casting a quick _Tempus_ spell. It was eleven-thirty. 

“I woke you,” I croaked, “I’m sorry.” 

He was still too close, holding me too tightly, and I was suddenly embarrassed, even though we’d done this a thousand times before. Before he and Ginny moved in together, it had been Harry’s arms around me, Ron giving me a sad look as he handed me a cup of tea. 

“Hermione,” Sirius started with a sigh.

“I’m—okay, now, I think. You don’t have to—“ 

“I’m not leaving,” he said. Final. “Would you like a cup of tea?” I gave him a quick nod and he untangled himself from my body, his warmth leaving my back. I turned to watch him go downstairs to the kitchen and saw that he had on a pair of low hanging pajamas bottoms, his torso visible. Tattoos rippled across his chest and as he turned to leave, and I watched the Phoenix on his back spread its wings—once, twice.

I didn’t want him to see me like this.

Sure, I’d seen him at his worst—recently escaped from Azkaban, hellbent on finding Peter and making him _pay._ I watched him scream when Harry left to meet Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. She watched as Remus and George had to hold him back to keep him from running after his godson. Professor McGonagall had to hit him with a stunning spell. I’d heard _his_ nightmares, woke him up with a cup of tea. 

“You’re terrible at making tea, you know that?” he’d say, breath ragged. But he’d take a sip anyway.

“Chamomile?” he asked when I padded down the stairs to the kitchen. I was in one of Ron’s old Quidditch jerseys and a pair of shorts. 

“Yes, thank you.” I took a seat at the kitchen table, pressing her fingers against my forearm. I watched as he made my tea, sticking the tea bag into the cup, letting it steep for a few minutes. “Did Harry and Ron come by?” I asked suddenly. 

“Nope. It’s date night, apparently,” he said with a shrug.

Date night.

_Date night._

I took a moment to look at him. He smelled nice, more than just tobacco and leather. Cologne, as well. He’d shaved—not everything, but cleaned up his beard some and his hair was tied back neatly, out of his face. 

“Sirius, I—“ I stood up abruptly, clasping my hands together behind my back to stop the shaking. “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m—“ 

“Hermione, _stop._ ” Oh fuck. He was too good, too fucking good. He turned to face me, placing the teacup on the table. He reached out and took my face in his hands, and I looked down at the floor. “Look at me. Please, Kitten?”

I couldn’t. 

We’d been dancing around each other for months. I didn’t feel comfortable establishing something with Sirius until we’d talked about it with Harry. He was his godfather, after all. Harry had been so good about it, said he’d just wanted the two of us to be happy. 

It was supposed to be our first date.

He was going to take me to some Muggle pub he liked, we were going to get fish and chips, and we were going to go to Blockbuster and pick out a film. I’d laid down to take a nap. It was supposed to be a short nap, but—

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I gripped his wrists. I took a deep breath and then another, trying to steel myself. I wanted to be good for him, like he was for me, but it always felt like I was falling apart, into tiny pieces that I couldn’t put back together again.

“I ruined it. I ruined our first date,” I said with a sad laugh, my voice breaking some as my eyes burned.

“Stop that. You didn’t ruin shit, Hermione. We can do another day. Fish and chips aren’t going anywhere.” His hands were in my hair now, tugging gently, tilting my head back so that I had to look at him. 

“It was supposed to be tonight,” I sighed, my bottom lip quivering. It was on my goddamn calendar. 

“I know, Kitten.” 

“I ruined it.” 

“You didn’t,” he sighed, hands back on my face, forehead pressed against mine.

“I shouldn’t’ve taken the fucking nap.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he chuckled. “You look gorgeous when you’ve just woken up.” He closed his eyes, breathing me in. “Your hair’s all—“

“Frizzy.”

“— _wild_. Your lips are swollen, like—“ He shook his head and opened his eyes. “You look beautiful.” He took a breath. “Your tea’s gonna get cold.” He released me and I turned around, reaching for it and taking a long sip. He’d sweetened it just the way I liked. 

I always had trouble going to sleep after the night terrors, so I’d usually sit up and read or write in my journal. He reached for my hand and I took it, lacing our fingers together, and we walked into the living room, towards the couch. 

“We didn’t finish Ghostbusters,” I said when we settled on the couch. Sirius sat on one side, arm resting on the armrest. He had a glass of Firewhisky resting on the accent table next to the couch. I curled up in a blanket and laid my head against his chest, stretching out on the couch. “Do you want to?” I asked. I was trying to make something nice out of the wreckage I’d created. 

When he pressed his lips against mine, I didn’t feel so cold anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the support! again, i hoped everyone enjoyed this chapter! there will be one more chapter posted, either today or sometime this weekend, but i am in the planning phases of a longer fic.


	7. gift

“I don’t want to keep sneaking around with you, Hermione,” he whispered angrily. “I’m a grown man, not a fucking teenager!” 

“You are certainly _acting_ like a teenager, Sirius Black!” 

They probably shouldn’t’ve been having this conversation in the middle of the Burrow, during Christmas dinner. They probably shouldn’t’ve been doing a lot of things: Sirius pulling her into empty bedrooms to press her against the door and kissing her hard. Fingers tangled in her hair. His lips against her neck. Breathy moans. 

“We--can’t. Not today,” she said, her voice softer now. 

“You’ve been saying that for _months_.” He leaned his head back against the wall with a sigh. They were in Ginny’s old room, and Hermione looked around, feeling nostalgic. How many times had she and Ginny sat in this room, talking about their crushes? Gushing over their first kisses? 

“I just—it should be the right time.” Hermione took a step toward him, hands extending to grasp his.

“When’s the right time, Hermione?” Sirius asked, eyes trained on her. He didn’t take her hand. She sighed.

They’d been sneaking around for months. Grimmauld when Harry was off on missions, the apartment she shared with Ginny when she was at her Quidditch matches. It had truly been _reckless_ , even though her whole _life_ had been reckless--chasing after Horcruxes, dueling, the Time-Turner. But Sirius didn’t want reckless, he’d had a whole lifetime of reckless, just like her, and he wanted something serious. Real. 

She wasn’t sure if she could give him that. Not yet. 

“I… I don’t know.” 

“Right.” He let out an exasperated sigh and left Ginny’s bedroom. 

****

Sirius Black was ignoring her.

Instead of sitting next to her or somewhere near her, he sat as far away from her as possible. Whenever they were in large groups, he would go out of his way to touch her: a hand on the small of her back as he walked past her, his fingers gripping hers when they stood next to each other. Today, however, he refused to look at her and gave short responses whenever she tried to talk to him. 

“Hermione?” Charlie called her name a couple of times before she turned to look at him. She sat at the kitchen table, across from Charlie, and Sirius was laughing, talking with Harry and Remus, actively _ignoring_ her. She frowned briefly. “Did you hear me?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie. Could you repeat that?” she asked. 

“I said how’s the Ministry?”

“Good, I suppose,” Hermione said with a shrug. “The dragon legislation I’ve been working on was finally passed.” She gave Charlie a bright smile, before sighing. She left out the part about the Werewolf Protection Bill being deadlocked. No one would touch it, even though she _knew_ it was a great plan. “What about you? How’s the Reserve?”

Charlie leaned forward, his chin in the palm of his hand as he told her about the Dragon Reserve. He mentioned something about a burn on his forearm, a scratch on his face, about hatchlings, but Hermione found it hard to focus. Even though Sirius was currently ignoring _her_ , he was not ignoring her conversation with Charlie Weasley. Sirius stared daggers at her back and she could _feel_ him watching her. 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

****

Sirius continued to ignore her throughout dinner, sitting as far away from her as possible. She ended up having a nice conversation with Charlie, who was very nice to look at. He had a great smile and tattoos and he worked with dragons, which made him dangerous, but not _too_ dangerous.

If she squinted, Charlie could be good. Charlie was smart, he was a good conversationalist.

“Got you another butterbeer,” Charlie said, handing Hermoine a glass and plopping down beside her on the couch. He slung his arm over the back of the sofa, fingers gently pressing against her shoulder. 

“Thank you!” She was hyper aware of Sirius’s eyes on her from across the room. He had Teddy in his arms, bouncing him some. 

Molly clapped her hands together, signaling that it was time to open presents. This year, Ginny had convinced her mother to try Secret Snowflake, and Hermione was terribly thankful. As much as she loved the red sweater with the embroidered golden H, the gift lost its novelty after the third sweater.

“And this one is for Remus and Tonks!” Molly handed the couple a brightly colored bag, and Hermione craned her neck some, trying to see their reactions. 

“A book on eighteenth century water charms and chocolate frogs—for Remus, obviously,” Tonks said with a grin, “ _l_ _ots_ of books in here for Teddy, and—fuck yes! Mariah Carey on vinyl! Hermione, you _didn’t_!” The woman’s hair turned a bright shade of bubblegum pink and she jumped over to Hermione, pulling her into a tight hug. Hermione nearly toppled into Charlie’s lap. “You remembered!”

Duh.

Hermione Granger was an excellent gift giver. She remembered things, the important things, and maybe books weren’t the most _interesting_ gifts, but the gifts were special to each of them. Remus had mentioned researching eighteenth century charms and Tonks loved Mariah Carey, apparently. As she should. 

“Of course I remembered! You wouldn’t shut up about it after I showed you how to use the CD player,” Hermione laughed. “Happy Christmas.” She gave Tonks another squeeze before leaning back against the couch. Her hip was pressed against Charlie’s. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes.

“Erm—Molly, love, that means it’s Hermione’s turn, yeah?” Sirius cleared his throat, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“Oh! Yes, here you go, dear.” Molly handed her a card, and Hermione gave the older woman a tight smile.

If someone gave her another gift card again, she was going to _scream_.

People were always giving her _gift cards_ or stupid things, like _bookends_. To be fair, both items were useful, but fairly impersonal. 

But Hermione took a breath and opened the card, and found two plane tickets from Melbourne to London. 

“It’s… plane tickets. I don’t understand.” She furrowed her brow. Was this some kind of joke? To _Australia_ , of all places? 

“Somewhere warm?” Harry tried with a shrug. Ginny pinched him. “Ow!” 

“They’re _from_ Melbourne _to_ Heathrow,” Hermione explained. She looked around the room, and saw confusion on everyone’s faces, except for Sirius and Remus, who were actively looking away from her. Remus was glaring at Sirius and Sirius was looking at the ceiling. 

_“Padfoot,”_ he mouthed, gesturing towards her. 

“Oh, _fine_ ,” he sighed, as if they’d _forced_ him to explain. He stood to his feet and finally, _finally_ looked at her. “I had you for Secret Snowflake, kitten. If you look at the date on the tickets, you’ll see that Monica and Wendell Wilkins are flying into Heathrow on the twenty-seventh.” He took in a ragged breath. “I’ve arranged for them to see a mind healer based in Melbourne. They’ve been working with her for about a year.” 

She couldn’t breathe. 

“They are so very excited to see you, kitten.” He gave her a lopsided smile. 

She couldn’t fucking _breathe_. It was too much. Everyone’s eyes were on her and she couldn’t take her eyes off of Sirius and now _he_ looked uncomfortable, and Teddy was squirming in his arms, sporting a head full of wavy black hair, just like his uncle’s.

“Excuse me,” she said, and Hermione Jean Granger, One Third of the Golden Trio, ran from the fucking room. 

Some time later, Harry joined her in the backyard. Hermione sat on the ground, head between her legs, breathing heavily. 

“At least you didn’t get bookends again,” he said with a sigh, plopping down next to her, a gentle hand on her back. 

She snorted.

“When were you going to tell me?”

She stiffened.

“You don’t give someone a gift like _that_ unless you’re madly in love with them,” he continued. 

“We’re not—“ She sat up quickly, her bun frizzy and halfway out of the ponytail holder now. 

“You can’t lie to me, you know. I’m your best friend.” Harry grinned at her. “And—Sirius told me two months ago. We were at the Leaky. He was _very_ drunk.” 

That little _snitch_. 

“You’re okay with this? Us?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s… not what I _thought_ would happen, but… are you happy?”

She didn’t have to think. She nodded quickly. She was happy. Even though Sirius was _infuriating_ and left the cabinets open and kept saying CP3O instead of _C3PO._

“Well, I’m okay, then, I’ve decided.” Harry gave her a bright smile and kissed her on the forehead. “Ron will be a little upset though, I gather.” 

“I’m sure,” she sighed. Hermione brought her knees to her chest, gazing up at the night sky. 

“Let’s get back in there, yeah?” Harry held out his hand, and she took it hesitantly, fingers gripping his tightly. Harry had always had a knack for giving her a little extra courage. The Gryffindor courage in Hermione only went so far, especially when it came to her emotions. Harry led her back into the living room, and she searched for Sirius, finding him chuckling with the twins. 

“Alright, love?” Charlie asked. She nodded.

“Excuse me—Sirius?” She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention. In result, she got _everyone’s_ attention, which made her palms sweat. “Oh, great, everyone’s looking,” she muttered to herself. “I just—wanted to say, I appreciate your gift. Thank you.” He gave her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Of course, kitten. Happy Christmas.” He turned his attention back to Fred and George.

“I also wanted—t-to s-say…” She took a deep breath. Sirius turned back to look at her, eyebrows raised. “I love you,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth like mush. “I’m _in_ love with you.”

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” His lips twitched. The beginning of a smile.

“I’m not saying it again.” 

“I couldn’t hear you.” 

“You _heard_ me.” 

He stared at her for a moment before breaking out into a grin, making his way over to her, and pulling her into his arms. Sirius knew he was pushing it; she wasn’t going to make an even bigger spectacle of herself, and he _really_ appreciated the fact that she’d told him this in front of everyone. 

“I’d like to kiss you—can I kiss you now?” he said with a chuckle, and Hermione nodded eagerly, giving him a bright smile as he leaned down to capture her lips with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i am giving y'all an extra chapter soon! :) ahhhh! thank you so much for all the kudos and the comments! i really appreciate them and i've read through all of them. y'all are the best <3


	8. mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! This is the end! This last chapter took me a long time to write for some reason lol, but I'm so thankful for all of y'all's support. I'm so glad y'all enjoyed the drabbles and thank you again for every kudos and every comment. Y'all are the best.

**December 15th, 1977**

She was trying really hard to avoid them. 

Mostly because it hurt so much, but also because she was deathly afraid that she was going to create some sort of paradox. 

It was painful to look at them and know what was going to happen to them. To know that James and Lily would die and that Peter would be the one to betray them. To know that Sirius would spend twelve years in Azkaban for a crime he didn’t commit, Frank and Alice would never be able to watch their son grow up. That Remus would be alone, afraid to live, and love, for years.

So she did her best to stay away. 

She tried really,  _ really  _ hard to avoid them. 

Sirius shoved her books and parchment onto the other side of the table and plopped down into the seat next to her. 

“I’m  _ revising _ ,” she said with a frown, her eyes still on her parchment. She had one hand pressed against the parchment to keep it from moving, the other hand held her quill. She scribbled furiously. She couldn’t look at him. She would only see him crazed in the Shrieking Shack, holding Remus back as he transformed, or she would see him falling through the Veil. Or she’d see his smile, which was like a magnet, pulling you in. She’d see the way his eyes crinkled up when he laughed. The look on his face whenever he got a good— _ bad _ , idea. 

She couldn’t look at him.

“Are you going to Slughorn’s Christmas party? You got an invite, yeah?” Sirius asked, ignoring her. He kicked his feet up on the table.

“No. And yes, I did. Also—take your feet off the table, it’s  _ rude. _ ” She sighed and finally turned to look at him. She found him grinning at her and she flushed some before shoving his feet off the table.

“Why aren’t you going? You should go,” Sirius suggested, grabbing one of her sugar quills, sucking gently. 

“I don’t--” she furrowed her brow, trying to think of an excuse. “I don’t like parties.” 

“Kitten, it’ll be full of swots like you. Pretty sure the lot of you will be discussing runes translations.” 

Hermione frowned. 

“Why do you want me to go so badly?” She narrowed her eyes. 

“I just need you to stick a few of these around the room.” Sirius held out a few bundles of mistletoe and smiled at her. 

“No. Absolutely not.  _ Definitely  _ not!” She stared at him before asking with a sigh, “What is it?” 

“Just some screaming mistletoe.” 

“I know that’s not all. Spill the beans, Black.” 

“Well, it screams, whenever two people are together under it.” He held up his hands with a smile. “Which, I know, you’re going to say, ‘Didn’t the Prewetts come up with something like that already?’ but that’s where you’re wrong, Granger. It screams a very specific message. Watch.” He pointed his wand and muttered a spell under his breath. 

“ _ MR. PADFOOT THINKS YOU’VE GOT A GREAT ARSE _ !” 

Hermione turned a dark shade of red and Madame Pince turned to glare at them. 

“ _ Sirius _ !” 

She sighed and quickly reached for the mistletoe in the palm of his hand. With a huff, she stuffed it into her bag, rolling her eyes as he gave her a bright smile. 

Sirius Black was going to give her an ulcer. 

* * *

**December 25th, 1977**

It reminded her too much of home. 

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were very kind, very welcoming. When James and Sirius dragged her over to them after they got off the train, the Potters had decided that she was not only going to spend Christmas with them, but the entire winter holiday. When they’d asked her what she wanted for Christmas, Hermione had requested full access to the Potter Library and spent her Christmas morning exploring. James ended up giving her a few chocolate frogs, Remus gave her an anthology of Lord Byron poems, and Sirius got her a new set of quills. The gifts were thoughtful, appreciated, but very,  _ very  _ unexpected. It made her miss Harry, Ron, and Ginny, and she did her best not to burst into tears in front of the Marauders. 

After a hearty dinner and multiple confirmations to the Potter house elf, Pippy, that she did  _ not  _ need another treacle tart, she retreated to the library to curl up with a good book. 

Later that night, Sirius found her asleep in a chair, snuggled up with a blanket,  _ Hogwarts: A History  _ open on her chest. 

“Kitten?”

After months on the run with Harry, she’d gotten used to sleeping lightly. 

“That’s not my name,” Hermione sighed, turning onto her side and opening an eye to look at him.

“I know.” He gave her a quick smile before leaning back on his haunches. “Haven’t you read that, like, a million times already?” he asked, pointing to the book on her chest. 

She frowned. He knew the answer to that already. 

Truthfully, she always returned to  _ Hogwarts: A History _ when she was feeling… overwhelmed. It was calming to read a book she knew already. There were no twists or turns or big drops or big reveals at the end. There were no ambiguous endings. It was familiar. It was information she already knew, and it helped to ground her when she was stressed. 

“Well, I learn something new each time I read it.” She shrugged, sitting up some. She had both eyes open now. Sirius had her full attention. 

“Really.” 

Really. 

She took a moment to look at him--disheveled from sleep. His hair was a mess on top of his head, loose, black curls falling into his eyes. He had on a pair of low hanging pajama bottoms and no shirt, revealing the tattoo on his chest: a large, black dog. Padfoot. He was still lean, growing into his muscles, but she could see the definition forming, in his biceps, his abs, that  _ V thing  _ all men seemed to have--

Oh, Merlin. 

Hermione shook her head, closed her eyes tightly. Took a breath. 

“You are  _ infuriating _ , Sirius Black,” she decided. It was easier to see him as infuriating, rather than what he  _ really  _ was. Beautiful. Anxiety inducing.  _ Good _ . 

Sirius grinned. 

“And you’re  _ beautiful _ , Kitten.”

What? Oh no. Oh,  _ no _ . She had to be dreaming, right? This was a dream. 

She stared at him, eyes wide for a long time, gripping the book tightly in her hands. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. What could she say?  _ Sirius, you’re going to spend twelve years in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit? I think you’re fit as fuck, though! _ What if she fucked up the timeline? What if she… disappeared? Could that happen? 

“Uh… Hermione?” 

Sirius gently tugged the book out of her grasp, closing it, and placing it gently on the table next to her. He leaned closer to her, gripping her hands in his. 

“I just--I should’ve told you  _ ages _ ago, I know, but you’re just so bloody…  _ Scary. _ ” He gave her a soft laugh.

Scary? She wasn’t scary! Was she? Was she, in fact, scary? Did she scare men off? Or was that some patriarchal bullshit about women being assertive? She couldn’t think. 

“And then Diggory asked you to Hogsmeade and you said  _ yes _ ,” he grumbled. 

To go to Tomes and Scrolls! She needed a book! 

“You’re just--smart as  _ hell  _ and you’re kind to everyone. Even if they don’t deserve it. I know I didn’t--I didn’t deserve it when we first met.” Sirius sighed. “And you don’t take any shit. From anyone. Especially me.” Another grin, before he faltered. “But you--you don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know. I think you’re beautiful.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against her forward. “Night, Kitten.” He stood to his feet. 

Wait, he was leaving? Was he leaving? After he just professed his love to her? Well. Okay, not his  _ love _ , but his  _ like! _ He couldn’t just leave after saying all of those nice things to her. But he was already at the doorway, nearly out of the room. 

“Wait!” she whispered, quickly standing to her feet. “Wait. I… This…  _ You. _ ” She covered her face with her hands, groaning, before taking a breath. Sirius had stopped at the doorway, eyebrows raised. “You are  _ infuriating _ , Sirius Orion Black,” she said finally, gathering her wits. And her voice. Hermione took a few steps toward him. “You interrupt my studying, make me go along with your  _ stupid  _ pranks, you steal my quills, and you…  _ dog ear the pages of books _ ! You’re a bloody  _ wizard _ and an animagus, I’m sure you know how to transfigure a bookmark!” Her shoulders were nearly up to her ears now and she was sure her face was red and her hair was sparking. “But you always save me a seat in the Great Hall, you know how I take my tea, and you invited me to Christmas, and--” She deflated now, giving him a warm smile. “And you’re  _ good _ . So good. And I--I’ve fancied you since…”  _ Since fifth year. Since that Christmas at Grimmauld Place.  _ “Since I can remember, so… I’m going to--kiss you now.” 

“You don’t have to announce it, Hermione,” he said with a chuckle, and she leaned forward to press her lips against his in a hesitant kiss. His lips were gentle against hers, although more sure. It felt…  _ different _ . Like electricity.  _ Heat _ , low in her belly.

“I want--can I kiss you again?” she asked, after they’d pulled apart. Sirius walked her backwards into the library and once her back was pressed against the wall, she leaned in to kiss him again, harder this time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, desperate to be closer to him.

His lips were everywhere--on her neck, sucking, biting, she was sure he was going to leave a mark, but she was also sure that she didn’t give a fuck. On her collarbone. She hitched her leg up onto his hip and she felt his hardness press against her. 

Hermione Granger never had the opportunity to be this reckless. 

Sure there were trolls, hippogriffs, dementors, and horcruxes, but she didn’t consider that  _ reckless _ . That was survival, the right thing to do. The greater good. 

She’d spent so much of her time in the seventies trying to go unnoticed, trying not to ruin anything, trying to be invisible. She decided then, with eighteen year old Sirius Black’s lips on her collarbone, his fingers hesitantly dancing at the hem of her t-shirt, that she was going to lean into this. This feeling. The recklessness. 

Sirius had pulled away from her collarbone to press his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, breathing her in. “Can I--”

“Oh! Um, yes. Yes!” Hermione said. There was a flutter, low in her stomach, and her face felt warm. She lifted her arms as he took her t-shirt off, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. She had forgotten to glamour the Mudblood scar on her arm from them, from any of them. Lily had cried when she’d seen it in the Common Room and gave her a long hug. Remus, James, and Sirius had looked uncomfortable, and Mary had sworn death to the perpetrator. 

No one knew about the scar just under her breast, though, and she’d intended to keep it that way. 

Luckily, Hermione was wearing a black bralette that hid most of the scar, for now at least. Sirius’s hands and lips were exploring now, dancing along her abdomen, he leaned down to kiss the top of her chest, his fingers creeping underneath the fabric dancing against the angry, purple scar. He began to take off that piece of clothing as well, and she obliged, lifting her arms.

“Hermione--” he started, pulling back. 

“Don’t,” she whispered. 

“This is from a dark curse, who--”

“We all have scars, yeah?” Hermione said, her voice wavering. “You told me that.” She’d seen a good amount of his, already. From his mother. From Azkaban. “I’m not-- _ broken _ . I’m not some damsel in distress that needs you to save her. It happened a long time ago.”

“ _ Hermione _ .” 

“I understand if you can’t--” There was something caught in her throat. Her eyes were burning and she really,  _ really  _ did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now. Not because of this. “If you’d just--hand me my clothes, I’ll--” She pulled away from him, blinking, trying to keep her lower lip from quivering. 

Sirius grabbed her arm, frowning. 

“Do you think… I’m not that much of an arsehole, Hermione!” he protested, eyes bright. “I have a right to feel sad. To worry about you. You’re my  _ friend _ .” His gaze softened as he looked at her. Then he was on his knees before her, pressing a reverent kiss against the scar. Her breath caught in her throat and he trailed soft kisses to her breast, slowly taking her nipple into his mouth. “As I said earlier: I think you’re beautiful, kitten.” 

Sirius had made quick work of pushing down her pajamas bottoms and her underwear, and maybe she should’ve been concerned that  _ she  _ was naked in the Potter Library, but she found it difficult to focus as Sirius ran a finger up her slit, briefly pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. She bucked her hips involuntarily. It felt like electricity in between her legs, and she needed  _ more. _

“Fuck. You’re drenched,” he moaned, kissing her quickly. His finger circled her clit, causing her to moan. He didn’t put much pressure there, just light, teasing touches, and she keened beneath him.

“Sirius!” she whined, gasping when he finally rubbed her clit. She bucked her hips harder this time, and she lost her balance, and they both tumbled to the floor. “I’m--”

“Shit, are you--” 

“Sorry.” She blushed, breathless. Grinning, Sirius cupped her cheeks. “I’m okay.” He gave her a quick kiss—light, gentle, as he slid his knee in between her legs. His lips were on her neck again, hands gently coaxing her legs apart. She lifted her hips to help him pull her thin shorts and knickers off. 

“Wednesday?” he chuckled. 

“What?” 

“Your knickers. They say Wednesday.” 

She felt her face flush. “Prat,” Hermione said with a huff, shoving him some. Sirius laughed,  _ really _ laughed, one of the belly laughs and kissed her again, lips playful against hers. He gently pulled her knickers off and pressed his finger along her slit. She bucked her hips involuntarily. His fingers circled her clit and she moaned. 

“I’ll be… I’ll be gentle, kitten,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers. “I know it’s--”

“You know  _ what _ ?” she asked, breathless. 

“It’s--you’re a…”

“A  _ virgin _ ?” Hermione finished, with a sarcastic laugh. “One: this is not my first time having sex. Two: virginity is a social construct to shame women.” She frowned. “ _ Really _ , Sirius.” 

“Excuse me for trying to be a gentleman!” 

“Male chauvinist.” 

“I’m--” He huffed. “Goddamn it, Hermione! I was just trying to be considerate!”

“You’re being terribly inconsiderate by not fucking me already.” She grinned, leaning up some and sticking her hand into his pants, stroking his cock slowly. It was hard and thick in her hand. “Would you like to continue talking about my nonexistent virtue, Sirius, or would you like to fuck me?” Hermione asked, her hand moving slowly up and down his shaft. 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” 

When he thrust inside of her, she let out a loud gasp. He filled her slowly, making her take each inch, and when his cock filled her, he pressed his lips against her throat. Sirius gripped her hair and she could feel his eyelashes flutter against her skin. 

“So fucking--” he groaned. Desperate for more, she bucked her hips against him, urging him to move. The hand in her hair settled on her cheek. He pulled back to look at her. “I just want to feel you. Let me feel you.”

“Sirius,  _ please _ ,” she begged, rolling her hips, trying to force him to move now. He reached down and hitched her leg up on his hip, fucking her at a deeper angle. She moaned again, leaning up to capture her lips with hers. She gripped his shoulders as he thrust into her--hard and deep, gasping as he hit that spot again.

She hadn’t expected it to be like this. Not with eighteen year old Sirius, at least. She wasn’t  _ dumb _ , she knew that  _ nobody _ was good at sex at this age, but  _ fuck _ , Sirius was good. Her first time with Ron had been  _ nice _ , gentle, and an experience she wouldn’t ever regret. She’d felt loved and cared for, but this was  _ different _ . 

His cock-- _ fuck _ , his cock was so thick, deep inside her. Mary had mentioned being  _ dickmatized  _ once, after four shots of Firewhisky in Lily’s room. 

_ “I would literally do anything for Stephen’s dick,” _ she’d said, snorting and throwing her head back with a giggle. They’d all laughed at her, but Hermione understood now. 

Sirius’s lips were on her neck again, pinching a pert nipple in between his fingers. She hissed, the sensation bordering on the line of pleasure and pain, and she bucked her hips again in response, her walls contracting around him. 

“ _ Fuck _ , kitten,” he groaned, and thrust into her harder now, reaching for her hand, guiding it down between her legs. “Rub your clit for me, love. Tell me when you’re close.” She nodded and drew slow circles around the bundle of nerves. Sirius watched in awe as she touched herself, as he thrust in and out of her. 

“I’m--” Her fingers were moving quicker now; it felt like lightning in her stomach--the sensation from her fingers and Sirius filling her. Sirius thrust hard and deep into her a few more times before groaning and spilling himself inside of her. Hermione’s walls contracted around him and she let out a moan, legs shaking.

Sirius collapsed next to her, chest rising and falling slowly. 

“Happy Christmas?” 

Hermione snorted and rolled onto her side, facing him. Sirius reached out and gently pressed his fingers to the underside of her breast and kissed her jaw. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, turning her face to kiss him gently. She looked up towards the ceiling, spotting the bundle of Sirius’s screaming mistletoe above them. She grinned and muttered a spell. 

“ _ MS. GRANGER THINKS YOU’RE AN INSUFFERABLE PRAT _ !” 

Sirius laughed. 

“ _ MS. GRANGER ALSO THINKS YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DICK _ !” 

Sirius  _ preened _ .

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed! chapters will be added on fridays <3


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